The Pilot and the Mercenary
by Chezza456
Summary: On general's orders the A-Team have to carry out a mission with the Oryx Squadron. Hannibal decides to put Murdock with the difficult Kruger to keep an eye on the mercenary... however it doesn't quite go to plan. Requested Oneshot.


**This was requested by ivebeenKrugered. I've loved writing it so much (and it's the longest oneshot I've ever written!), so here it is...**

**Merry Christmas! **

* * *

"I'm sorry Hannibal, but you and your boys can't do this mission alone."  
Hannibal sighed. For five minutes he had proceeded to explain that his team were good enough without back-up but the General wasn't budging on the matter. Hannibal flicked through the file on the desk that had been laid before him, skim-reading the profile of the mercenary who he would be forced to work with.  
"Are you sure about this General...? By the look of this guy's profile, any results we achieve aren't likely to be... _clean_" He questioned, raising an eyebrow at the man sat across from him. The General let out a long exhalation of air before answering.  
"I'm afraid that there might have to be a fair amount of bloodshed to retrieve this data Hannibal. But I know you'll do what you have to do to complete this task." Hannibal tried one last attempt.  
"Sir, you and I both know my team can retrieve almost anything with less than half the amount of bloodshed and destruction as anyone else! We can do the job alone; we can get the data for you." The General shook his head.  
"No Hannibal." He replied sternly. "Either you work _alongside them_, or _not at all_."

····

Murdock strolled over to where Face was sat, still wiping at the splashes of bright pink paint that had dried on his skin. He grumbled slightly; despite feeling like he'd rubbed a cheese grater over his skin (although admittedly he had tried that on his arm, and it stung a considerable amount more than his face did), the paint still hadn't come off. He sighed to himself, pulling the make-shift bandage tighter around his arm. He definitely didn't want B.A. to see the wound. Murdock wasn't all too keen on lightning bolts, or stitches.  
"Face, have you got any white spirit so I can get this-"  
"Shushh!" Face hissed, putting a finger to his own lips, without looking up. Murdock frowned at him. "Well have you?" He questioned again sternly.  
"Shush Murdock, I'm trying to listen!" Face's eyes briefly met Murdock's in an attempt to express the importance of his order. Then he looked back to whatever he was watching. Murdock followed his gaze.

Ten or so metres in front of them stood a woman, she was probably mid-twenties and fairly attractive; Murdock wouldn't have thought her to be Face's type, but then again he didn't really have a type - he'd go for any girl. But it wasn't her he was trying to listen to. Beside her stood a man - he was looming over her, in every sense of the word. He was fairly muscular, and may have looked attractive, if it weren't for his distinct lack of cleanliness and his shaggy hair and beard. From this distance Murdock could see his dark eyes peering down at her and a sly grin across his face. It was harder to make out what he was saying, especially with the accent (although generally Murdock could understand Afrikaans much better than the rest of the team), but despite the distance he could still understand the man's intentions.  
"He's flirting with her!" Face exclaimed, almost as if in disbelief. Murdock looked down at his friend. "So? You do it all the time...?" Face dragged his eyes away to look at him.  
"No I don't!" There was a brief pause. "Not _all_ the time... And definitely not like him! Look at the poor girl - she's terrified." His voice was strained. Murdock knew this was seriously bothering Face. He looked back up at the woman. Face was right, she was leaning away from him as much as was possible, glancing around for some escape route. The man leaned further over her, putting his hand on the table. It was if he knew she was trying to get away and was physically and mentally stopping her. Hell, Face was definitely the modern 'Casanova', but he'd never be as intimidating and as forceful as this.

Before Murdock even had the chance to look back down, Face had leapt from his seat and was strolling angrily over to them. Murdock followed closely. The other man had now managed to snake his hand around the back of the girl's neck and had pressed his face into her hair. She turned her head away from him, not able to pull away from his grasp. Face stormed right up to them.  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He snarled. It was a moment before the other man responded, only slightly lifting his head up as he inhaled her scent. He didn't speak but raised an eyebrow and grinned. Face glared.  
"I said what do you think you're doing?" He asked again, speaking slower. This time the other man pulled away, straightened up and narrowed his eyes.  
"Why don't you go and play with your orange make-up?" He jeered, referring to Face's tan. "Leave the real men to their own business." Face's mouth dropped open slightly at the insult. The other man, happy to have offended him, leaned back in towards the female and pressed his lips to her temple, his eyes never leaving Face's. She let out a quiet whimper and once again tried to turn her head away. An angry growl escaped his throat as Face pushed himself in between the two, creating a barrier, and allowing the girl to escape. She hurried away, briefly nodding at Murdock as a way of thanking them. The South African took a step back, and the two instantly noticed that his sly grin had turned into a deathly frown.  
"What the fok did you do that for?" He spat. Murdock backed away a little but Face stood his ground.  
"It was obvious that you were harassing her." Face retaliated.  
"Just some harmless flirting" He replied, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. Murdock was certain he'd heard him mutter _'for now'_ under his breath. It seemed like Face had heard it too and squared up to the other man, their faces uncomfortably close to one another's.  
"How dare you" He snarled. There was an unnerving silent before other man began to laugh. Face, momentarily astonished by the reaction, continued to scold at him threateningly. However his voice was drowned out by the sickening laughter. Suddenly, it stopped completely, surprising Face to the extent that he paused mid-sentence. The South African leaned in closer, his dark eyes piercing and moody.  
"Do you really think you're gonna fokking stop me?" Face gulped slightly, then regained his composure.  
"I will if I have to." He answered forcefully.  
"I was hoping you'd say that." His sly grin had returned and he reached one arm over his back. "My girl hasn't tasted blood in a while"

The two heard the blade being drawn before they saw it. The sound of the fine metal scraping the inside of its holder sent shivers down both their spines. Then, with one swift move, the katana was held up against Face's throat.  
"Any last words to your friend before I cut your throat open?"

"I'm going to have to stop you there." A voice spoke calmly behind them. All three turned to look. Hannibal stood, a small frown on his face, as he surveyed the situation before him. Momentarily distracted, the South African had loosened the hold on Face, and he wiggled free, pulling out a small pistol and holding it up in aim at the man's temple. Hannibal shook his head. "I'm going to have to stop you too Face." Face stared at his friend, clearly confused.  
"He was going to kill me!" He argued, his voice strained.  
"I still might." The South African snarled, yet didn't do anything to follow through his threat. Instead he slid the katana back into its holder. "Mr Hannibal Smith, I assume?"  
"Colonel" Hannibal corrected. "And you must be Agent Kruger?" Face stared in disbelief at the exchange.  
"No... no! You cannot be serious! We are not working with _him_!" Face exclaimed.  
"Don't worry. The feeling's mutual... _pretty boy_." From anyone else the nickname may have been a compliment, but from Kruger it was most definitely an insult.  
"General's orders I'm afraid" Hannibal explained. Very reluctantly Face lowered his gun.

····

Night was quickly approaching and it was time for Hannibal to run through the plan. The A-Team boys were used to this and had gathered in the small bunker without hesitation. The Oryx squadron, of course, were not. Their plans always consisted of the same routine: _hunt the fokkers down and kill them._ When Hannibal had calmly explained to them for the first time that the A-Team didn't work that way, Crowe and Drake had exchanged a look and laughed. When he explained the second time, they realised he was being serious. Grunting, they took seats at the back of the bunker, resting their bulky weapons casually on their laps. Now all they had to do was wait for Kruger to appear.

They'd been waiting 10 minutes before he arrived; a crate of beer in one hand, an open and half empty bottle in the other.  
"Alright boets" He addressed his crew, handing them both a bottle of their own. "They been keeping you captive here long?" He joked slyly.  
"Ja boss, they don't agree with our hunt and kill method" Drake replied after popping the lid off with his teeth and taking a long swig. Hannibal sighed.  
"Agent Kruger, please take a seat so we can discuss the plan." He said, working hard not to express his growing annoyance through his voice. Kruger turned and flashed a grin, dropping the crate of beer down in the middle of the table with a thud.  
"Here, take one, might take the edge off things." He retorted. Hannibal dismissed the comment, along with Face, who had taken to completely ignoring Kruger when at all possible. B.A. also left the beer untouched; he wasn't one to drink before a mission, and he'd already heard all that he needed to know (and more) about this guy from Face's moaning earlier that evening. Murdock glanced around slightly at his friends, keeping silent yet wanting to accept the offer of the beer. When none of the others took one he followed suit sadly. Kruger, who had been peering down at Murdock and had noticed his reaction, briefly frowned. He then reached over him, grabbed a bottle and dropped it in the captain's lap.  
"There you go. Drink up" Murdock glanced back at Kruger with a small smile as the agent took a seat beside the table. However, before he had a chance to drink any of the beer B.A. had snatched it back from him.  
"There is no way we're having a crazy ass fool like you fly anything if you're drunk. You're bad enough sober" B.A. snapped. Murdock went to protest but Hannibal interrupted him, agreeing with B.A. Kruger shook his head as he watched. There was no way the young pilot would be able to battle efficiently against his enemies if he couldn't even stand up for himself against his friends, the agent thought.

Once the beer had been removed from the table and the map spread across it, Hannibal began to speak through his plan. His boys, and surprisingly Crowe and Drake were all listening. Kruger, however, wasn't. He sat back on his chair, his feet on the table, slowly sharpening his sword with a wicked grin on his face. The sound echoed within the bunker and Hannibal grew increasingly frustrated with the mercenary. He stopped, taking a deep breath and then continued talking. Hannibal could swear he was speaking louder, yet he still couldn't hear his own voice clearly over the metallic echoes. He glanced at the mercenary who was still grinning, this time more specifically at him. He was doing it louder on purpose. The colonel exhaled sharply.

"Agent Kruger! Do you mind? We're trying to plan how to stop this terrorist cell which, to be perfectly honest, I think you should be listening to." Hannibal paused as he glared at Kruger. The agent raised an eyebrow yet didn't speak. The silence in the bunker was eerily threatening. "So, if you don't mind," Hannibal said, his voice strained, yet trying to keep the look on his face neutral. "Unless you have something _important_ to say, kindly _keep quiet_." Another moment of silence followed. No-one dared to breathe, let alone speak. Crowe and Drake both looked at their boss with worry, expecting him to launch into a violent outburst. After all, he still had his katana in his hand. Slowly Kruger moved his feet off the table and stood up. Hannibal straightened. The mercenary then leaned partially over the table, gripping his sword tightly. Everyone else kept silent. The two had kept constant eye contact throughout the outburst, in an attempt to stare the other down.  
"I have a plan" Kruger's voice was low and menacing. Hannibal crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes?"  
"We go in and cut the fokkers' heads off. Every. Single. One." There was a glint in his eye and as he spoke the last three words he expertly flicked his sword at the little toy soldiers on the table that had been placed to represent the enemy. Each of the plastic heads detached from the body as soon as the blade touched it and rolled off the table's edge. Hannibal's hand lifted to his face as he sighed hard in frustration. Kruger scowled. Slowly he pulled himself back up to his full height, his eyes once again dark and glaring.  
"We are not using _your_ brutish methods in _our_ operation." Hannibal stated firmly and loudly. A low growl escaped Kruger's throat.  
"Fine." He snarled. "Don't know why Delacourt sent me on this fokken mission." With that he stormed out of the bunker, only stopping to retrieve the rest of the beer from the crate. B.A. fumed as the mercenary bashed past him on his exit.  
"Look where you're going fool!" Face stared horrified at the headless toy soldiers. Murdock was staring at them too, yet with a look of fascination. The cut had been swift and smooth; if they had been human rather than plastic, death would have been instantaneous. Murdock decided he wanted a closer look at the incriminating sword.

At the back of the bunker the rest of the Oryx squadron had kept silent. After their boss's outburst they exchanged a look. They both knew the question the other was thinking. _Should we go after him?_ They also both knew the answer the other would reply with. _Leave him to calm down, don't want to be in his target range right now_. Even if they had wanted to go, the opportune window had closed. Hannibal had launched straight back into the revealing of his plan, adamant that this time he would not be interrupted. The two sighed in unison. For them it was going to be a long night.

····

It wasn't surprising when Crowe and Drake found Kruger back at the Raven, angry, brooding and having drunk all the beer. It had been about half an hour since he'd stormed out of the bunker in rage and the two believed that was enough time for him to cool off a little.  
"You alright boss?" Drake asked tentatively, keeping a fair amount of distance between himself and Kruger.  
"Who the fok does this _Hannibal Smith_ think he is?" Kruger spat, directing his question more to the ground than at his friends. Drake decided it was best to carry on keeping his distance. "What makes him think this is _his_ fokken mission? What makes _him_ in charge?" As neither Crowe nor Drake dared to answer, silence filled the ship. After several moments Kruger spoke again. This time his voice was quieter.  
"So what's this '_Amazing Hannibal Plan_' then?" Crowe smiled slightly to himself, almost telling Kruger he'd have known if he'd been there to listen. Luckily he managed to hold his tongue.  
"Basically boss, they're going to storm the first base, take out the techies and retrieve the all important data. We're to take out the second base, where they keep their arsenal." A sly grin appeared on Kruger's face. "We're to fly the Raven over first, take out the guards and then distract them while you go in to take out the rest. That way, neither base can inform the other of the incoming attack." Kruger's grin widened.  
"So you mean I can go in and annihilate those fokkers without Hannibal and his little gang knowing? Lekker." The two glanced at each other awkwardly. Kruger's grin sharply fell. "What are you two not telling me?" Drake shifted from one foot to the other before he spoke.  
"Hannibal said that you were to fly with that Murdock boy..."

The next few minutes that followed were filled with the sound of swearing and shattering beer bottles.

····

It was ten to midnight. Hannibal, Face and B.A had set off in the van in order to reach the terrorist's first base and data bank for quarter past. Hannibal had figured that dead on midnight would be too obvious. By quarter past he believed they would have lowered their guard if they had been expecting an attack. The Oryx squad were still hanging back at the base, not needing to depart as early. Kruger sat silently in the Raven, glaring down into the corner of the ship and gripping a large chemrail gun tightly in his hands, his finger rested on the trigger. Crowe and Drake cautiously left him alone, loading up the ship's artillery and stocking up on their ammunition. It was a good few minutes before the fourth member of their team for the night arrived.

Murdock was quietly humming to himself as he stepped through the open door of the Raven. Crowe and Drake glanced upwards as he casually knocked on the wall of the ship to announce himself. Drake raised an eyebrow and smirked a little at his appearance. Like the rest of the A-Team, Murdock was wearing all black, but he'd also added a few little extras of his own to his outfit. Across his cheekbones he had painted thick black lines and around his forehead he had tied a strip of black material. Overall he looked like a cross between an assassin and a ninja.  
"Y'all ready to go?" He asked, a grin creeping onto his face. Without a word or even a glance at the others, Kruger rose to his feet and marched out of the ship, his mind still fully focused on his own plans to destroy the terrorist ring. Murdock stared after him briefly before turning back to the two other members of the Oryx Squadron. "Is he always like that?" He questioned. Without hesitation both Crowe and Drake nodded. Then Crowe added:"Don't do anything to annoy him." Murdock gave a quick thumbs up to show he understood and then hurried after the mercenary. Secretly he was excited to be working with the other team; on normal missions Murdock was just there to pick up the guys after they'd done all the fun and fighting. Sometimes it would get exciting if there was an air chase, like in Mexico, but more often than not he felt like he was just the designated 'taxi' driver. It was very rarely that he was part of the ground team.

A few metres ahead of him he spotted Kruger by the small helicopter. Murdock skipped over, much to the mercenary's annoyance.  
"Why are you fokken skipping?" He grunted, no longer able to concentrate due to the infuriating distraction that was the A-Team's pilot. Murdock's face lit up although it was obvious he was trying to hide his excitement. He looked like a kid in a sweet shop.  
"It's exciting, I'm never really part of the ground team" He admitted. Kruger raised an eyebrow at the kid. He wasn't expecting to have a partner who would be _excited_. Not that Kruger was complaining; on the contrary he was feeling a pang of excitement himself. He hadn't used his katana in a while and was ravenous for blood. He unsheathed his favoured blade and examined it. It had been in his possession for as many years as he had been a soldier, yet he thoroughly sharpened and cleaned it enough for it to appear brand new. There was no doubt in his mind that the day he stopped carrying it would either be the day he retired (_not that retirement was a plan for the immediate future; Kruger loved his work way too much_) or the day he was killed. The sword glinted as it caught the moonlight, almost as if in response to him. Kruger grinned. His death wasn't on the agenda either – the fokkers would have to get past his blade and bullets first. A shadow fell across the katana, causing the ethereal shine to vanish.  
"That's an awesome blade" Murdock stated. "Can I take a closer look?"

Kruger growled and in one quick flash had Murdock pinned against the side of the helicopter with the sword at his throat.  
"_How's that for a fokken closer look?_" He spat, glaring down at the younger man. For a brief second he saw fear in Murdock's eyes as the back of his head hit the metal of the chopper. Half a second later though, all traces of fear had disappeared as his eyes fixed onto Kruger's.  
"You don't want to be doing that" Murdock stated the obvious. Kruger scowled slightly. He had wanted to intimidate the kid and it hadn't worked. _Yet_.  
"I don't think you've got much choice in the matter."  
"Well maybe not," Murdock answered intelligibly "but Hannibal would definitely kill you." The mercenary's eyes narrowed as he realised he was right. However the katana remained against the pilot's throat. A grin spread across Kruger's face as he dared to imagine the cascade of blood he could create at that very moment. It was a mistake to do so. The thought of Murdock's warm, viscous blood staining the ground, the blade and even him, intensified his lust for bloodshed. If Murdock had been looking at Kruger he would have recognised the look on his face as that of a wild animal that had caught its prey, and maybe, just maybe the glint of desire in the other mans' eyes. Instead, Murdock was craning his neck in order to get a proper look at the sword that was held there. He had decided that if this was the closest he was going to get to the katana, then he'd not pass on the opportunity to examine it.  
"Not if he thinks you were killed by a terrorist" Kruger threatened after a moment's thought.  
"I suppose he wouldn't if I _were_ killed by a terrorist." Murdock replied instantly, still not looking up. "But, my bloodstain on the helicopter would be enough evidence for him to know it was you, not a terrorist." Once again Kruger realised that Murdock was right. Enraged he drew back his fist and smashed it into the helicopter, inches to the left of the captain's head. With the additional strength from the exosuit, the impact of his punch created a large dent in the metal. The loud bang was accompanied by a louder roar. After his moment of fury Kruger then stormed a few metres away from the chopper and tried to regain control, cursing at himself for letting the kid get to him. He muttered under his breath that this was an exceptional case; if Murdock hadn't been part of the mission he would have been relishing in the bloodshed. Needing some way to fix his current withdrawal, he began to hope that his squad wouldn't kill off too many guards before he got there.

Kruger turned back to the helicopter, once again planning his attack and making it as brutal as he could possibly imagine. He had expected Murdock to be cowering inside the chopper. Instead he was still stood in the same place, glaring at Kruger with his arms crossed over his chest.  
"You dented my baby."  
"So what?" Kruger retaliated fiercely.  
"You wouldn't like it if someone dented your craft." Murdock stated sulkily. Kruger ignored the comment, despite agreeing with the pilot in his head.  
"Let's fokken go. I'm getting bored waiting here." He spoke impatiently as he moved swiftly towards the helicopter. Murdock jumped to action, despite still sulking. The two climbed into the small chopper and a few moments later it rose from the ground and hastily sped away from the base.

····

The helicopter had landed a few hundred metres away from the terrorist's arsenal and the two were keeping a low profile, waiting for the Raven to take out the guards. Murdock looked at his watch. Quarter past twelve. They had been stationary for five minutes and the silence in the cockpit was beginning to get unbearable. However Murdock didn't fancy taking any chances again. He hazarded a quick glance at the man sat beside him. Kruger's eyes were focused and staring but, at what, Murdock was unsure of. He assumed that the mercenary was wrapped up in his own thoughts, and he wasn't sure that it was a good idea to interrupt them. Instead, Murdock continued to stare out of the window. As he looked back out he noticed the dark outline of the Raven flying overhead. They had arrived. That meant it wasn't long until he and Kruger began their ground attack. Murdock held his breath, listening out for the first sound of the attack. The seconds stretched out in his head and worry began to set in. Why was it so quiet?

When the heavy sound of gunfire struck, Murdock couldn't help but jump slightly in his seat. To the side of him Kruger let out a snide laugh. Glancing briefly over, Murdock saw the older man shake his head and then begin to assemble his assortment of weapons. In comparison Murdock suddenly felt slightly underprepared with just a couple of semi-automatic pistols. The continuous sound of gunfire and explosions filled the air as Crowe and Drake took out the guards from above. Even from this distance Murdock could see the machine guns blazing on top of the building. He couldn't help but think that it was a good job that the Raven had gone in first; the two of them would have been shot down instantly otherwise.

The sound of the door release brought Murdock's thoughts back into the helicopter.  
"What are you doing?" He questioned as Kruger leapt out. "You know we're meant to wait at least 2 minutes before heading over..." Kruger turned and grinned, lifting the chemrail gun into the firing position.  
"Can't let those two annihilate all the fokkers now, can I?" He then stormed off towards the targeted base. Murdock stuttered briefly, unable to form a coherent response. After a moment he swore and also climbed out of the helicopter to follow the mercenary. As he ran he checked the two holsters that held the pistols, both of which were ready and loaded. Once he had done so, Murdock then turned his attention to catching up with Kruger. They were only 50 metres from the gates now, and Murdock was relieved to see that the enemy machine guns were still pointed in the direction of the Raven, and not at them. As the two reached the entrance he was momentarily distracted by the damage the Oryx Squad had achieved. A small, controlled bomb, dropped in order to blow the electronic gates open: that had been Hannibal's plan. Yet the explosive device Drake had dropped had obliterated not only the Northern side of the perimeter wall, but also the edge of the building. Kruger stormed straight through the destruction, shooting down any remaining rebels in an instant. Snapping back to his senses, Murdock had no choice but to follow. He held one of the pistols in his hand just in case, however he had to admit that Agent Kruger was doing a good job of taking them out by himself. Not that Hannibal would appreciate the method...

Once Kruger was completely certain that no rebels outside the building remained alive he stalked to the blown out entrance. Murdock crept closely behind. Vigilant for any surprise attacks, Kruger began down the long corridor. As the two wound their way further into the compound the gunfire from the Raven only drifted to them as a dull hum.

"Where are you hiding" Kruger purred aloud. No sound came in response; the corridors were empty. Murdock couldn't tell whether this was a bad sign or a good one. Hannibal had warned him that after the preliminary attack the remaining enemies would likely be hiding out in the arsenal. This also meant that they would be prepared with masses of weaponry and ammunition. Hannibal had also produced an architectural map, and he made it explicitly clear to Murdock to memorise the layout of the building. During the helicopter flight, Murdock had tried to explain the layout of the building to Kruger, however the mercenary had ignored him the first time. When he tried again, the response Kruger replied with was along the lines of "Shut the fok up". As they came to a fork in the hallway Murdock felt a little smug as Kruger half-turned to him, raising an eyebrow as if questioning which way to go. The pilot let out a little 'ahem' before he strolled past and led the way down the left hand corridor.

As Murdock walked less than a metre ahead, Kruger scowled at him. It was a tantalising thought that he could just tense his finger on the trigger and the pilot would be dead on the floor in front of him. However Kruger had already learnt that he didn't want to mess with the A-Team's Captain. Yet. Suddenly a foreign shout drew his focus to the end of the corridor before him. One of the terrorists stood at the end, screaming obscenities at them. A second later a bullet whistled past his head, barely skimming the metal exoskeleton that encased his shoulder. In front of him, Murdock had already aimed his pistol and fired several shots. So far, none had killed.  
"Fokking get down" Kruger snarled as he expertly aimed his chemrail in a matter of milliseconds. It was just enough time for Murdock to duck down and scoot back behind Kruger before the gun was fired. The rebel's body was torn apart by the impact and a gory mess painted the wall and floor. Kruger turned to grin at Murdock, who was still down on the ground. "Maybe you should let me walk at the fokking front." He mocked. Murdock attempted to glare back, but the state of the mess at the end of the corridor reduced his face to a shocked frown. Kruger laughed. "Better get used to the gore boetie, you're gonna see a whole of more of it when we get in there." His grin hadn't subsided. Instead, Murdock could have sworn he was in fact happier. As Kruger began to stalk off again, he lifted himself to his feet, starting to wonder profoundly about who he was working with. Murdock often felt he couldn't comment on the state of others he worked with, due to his own condition, but this guy... Murdock couldn't even find the right word to describe him. Hannibal usually had good, no, excellent plans, yet working with this Agent Kruger certainly wasn't one of them.

Despite his concerns, Murdock knew there was no turning back on the mission, so had no choice but to follow Kruger closely down the rest of the corridor. It seemed that the single rebel jumping out on them had been a one off, surprise attack. As they continued further into the compound it became clear to them that the terrorists were hiding. However, it meant that soon they would come across the whole group together, and most likely at close range. Murdock hoped that Kruger had a good plan of his own, because the one that Hannibal had instructed to carry out had been discarded by the mercenary. He wanted to ask, but at that point they were reaching the end of the corridor and both men attempted to be as silent as possible. Kruger had even slowed his pace down to reduce the sound from their footsteps on the hard concrete floor. They soon reached the end and the South African turned to the heavy metal door, that opened to what Murdock believed would be the arsenal from the maps Hannibal had given him. He looked back at the pilot and silently signalled for him to be ready. Murdock lifted the other pistol from his holster and nodded. Not that Kruger was waiting for his response. He had already turned back to the door grinning, and then took a deep breath in before slamming his full body weight against the door to force it open.

As the two burst through the door Murdock braced himself, both pistols held out at arm's length with his fingers ready on the triggers. Kruger was also trigger ready, scanning across the room with his gun. However apart from the sound of their own heavy breathing the room was quiet. A low droning hum from a dodgy air-con system filled the silence. The room was lit harshly with fluorescent lights, creating dark shadows down the rows of stacked weaponry. Kruger crouched low and stalked along the top of the room, pausing for 10 seconds at each row to check that the shadows were empty. Murdock waited by the door, watching Kruger's every move, ready to fire if needed. Time seemed to stretch out endlessly and the uneasy silence rang in Murdock's ears. When he felt his head beginning to spin he realised he needed to slow his breathing back to normal. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins, and although he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nerves, he knew that he had to keep focused. As he recovered from the brief spell of dizziness, Murdock found himself slightly off-balance, and stumbled to the side. In doing so he bumped a small table, the top of which was covered in an array of bullet shells. He cursed as they all crashed to the floor. Kruger spun round at the noise, his gun up and his finger placed on the trigger. Upon realisation that it had been Murdock he lowered the chemrail with a scowl.  
"Watch what you're fokking doing." Murdock briefly nodded back, carefully stepping away from the table, making sure not to slip on the shells that littered the ground. Kruger's dark piercing eyes followed him.

However the silent glaring was broken by an ear-splitting bang. Kruger froze, his breath catching in his throat for a second, before he crashed to the floor.  
"Oh shit!" Murdock leapt back out of his path to avoid the larger man falling down on him. Snapping his head up, he spotted the young man who had just fired hiding in the shadows. Swiftly Murdock raised his gun and pulled the trigger, firing one shot that left the terrorist slumped on the floor. He then knelt down beside the groaning mercenary. Luckily Murdock couldn't see any blood from where the bullet had planted itself deep into the metal exoskeleton, yet he knew that the close range of the shot would still be very painful. Even so, Murdock let out a small sigh of relief. However the relief didn't last long. Moments later Murdock felt an agonising pain blaze in his back as he himself collapsed to the floor. As his face hit the cold concrete floor he groaned loudly. The pain was now spreading, and although he wanted to stay down, he knew he had to turn and face whoever was behind him. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onto his back. Several men stood above him, the nearest holding the barrel of his rifle and grinning profoundly. Murdock pushed himself backwards across the floor, despite the searing pain that filled his body. The one closest laughed and partly turned back to the others to talk, speaking in a language Murdock could only partly understand. Something about keeping them hostage in return for information. He continued to scoot himself backwards with a struggle, trying to reach one of the pistols that had been knocked out of his hand upon the impact. He stretched out his arm however the gun was still slightly out of reach. Once again clamping his teeth together to stop himself crying out, he stretched further, his back burning more ferociously than before. However the increase in pain was worth it as he managed to curl his fingers around it. He raised his gun, aiming it at the terrorist who had struck him. Yet Kruger had somehow managed to rise up to his knees silently, without attracting attention. The mercenary then lurched forward, pulling the trigger of the gun down, ultimately firing the gun into the enemy's face. As the body fell to the floor the group looked on in a state of shock, trying to piece together what had happened. Taking the opportunity, Murdock fired, hitting one of the men in the shoulder. He cried out, alerting the others to snap out of their momentary trance. The injured man snarled and leapt at Murdock. However, an almighty crack stopped him in his tracks as Kruger used the rifle to take out his legs. As he rolled on the floor screaming and clutching at his broken shins the others took the chance to grab weapons. Murdock lifted himself to his feet to brace himself for the oncoming attack. Kruger remained oblivious, chucking away the gun and unsheathing one of his daggers to finish off the snivelling man. Murdock was too busy engaged in fire to criticise his brutal methods. An assailant had crept round behind them, and the two found themselves being shot at from both sides. Murdock ducked and rolled towards cover. Once his back was guarded by the stacked shelving he re-composed himself, and continued to shoot. It wasn't long before another terrorist hit the floor. Kruger had finished carving his victim and scanned the room to observe his surroundings. He quickly noted that his chemrail was several metres out of reach, however the nearest enemy wasn't. Clenching his bloody dagger between his teeth, Kruger leapt at the man and attacked. From the awful screams Murdock could tell that whatever Kruger was doing to the guy wasn't pleasant. He couldn't help but feel thankful that they were both on the same side. However Murdock's momentary loss of concentration had allowed one of the terrorists a chance to sneak up beside him. The man swung the butt of his rifle, smashing it into Murdock's hand and subsequently knocking the gun out of it. The sharp burn of pain left him vulnerable to attack, and it was only a moment later that Murdock was trapped in a choke-hold, the rifle tight against his neck. The pilot grabbed at the gun, trying to pull it down from his neck, but the pain in his hand flared, making the attempt useless. Instead the terrorist squeezed the gun tighter across his throat, causing Murdock to gasp for air. In a last attempt to save himself he spluttered out Kruger's name, in hope that the mercenary would stop in his plans to mutilate his latest victim and help. Kruger looked over his shoulder for a brief second, then returned to finish his attack.

Murdock's hope fell. For a moment his breath caught in his throat as he realised the person who he had been working with all night was suddenly unwilling to help him. His break from struggling allowed his attacker to get a stronger grip on the rifle. As the blood began to pound in his head Murdock found that he could no longer draw in air. As he continued to struggle, to no avail, he glared at the back of the South African. Kruger, who still had his victim pinned to the ground, lifted to his knees and slowly unsheathed his katana. He then brought the sword down, ending his second attack. One more enemy loomed over Kruger. He snarled and the terrorist backed off slightly, not wanting to end up the same way as his comrades. Kruger jumped up to his feet, turned and threw the precious sword into the air.  
"Catch" He barked at Murdock, before launching himself into another fight with his remaining opponent. It took a second for the order to sink in before Murdock braced himself to catch the falling blade. Reaching out his uninjured hand he pulled himself as far forwards as he could. The handle fell into his outstretched fingers and he quickly clamped his hand, only managing to catch it. Swiftly, he turned the blade inwards and thrust it into the chest of the man behind him. The terrorist doubled over, dropping the rifle and releasing Murdock. The pilot then swung another blow to kill him. As he did, Kruger also delivered his final attack to the remaining opponent. Happy to be able to breathe again, Murdock sighed in relief. Kruger raised an eyebrow at him.  
"You're not that bad boetie. Not that bad." Murdock grinned at his comment.

····

"You should have seen it man, I crashed through the window, and they all froze. It was so awesome -" Murdock laughed as Face excitedly recounted their half of the mission. They were all back at the base camp and as normal, Murdock had set up the barbeque. He delivered the curry tapenade to B.A and then retreated back behind the fire. Kruger was stood, spearing a piece of meat with his katana with one hand, a bottle of beer in the other.  
"You did good last night boetie." He said after a moment's silence. "Maybe a little more training and you could be good enough to join my squadron." Murdock grinned slightly, but shook his head.  
"No thanks. I've got my team here. We're pretty much a family." Kruger nodded. Murdock then went to flip the cooking meat, however winced as he applied pressure to his injured hand.  
"I'll watch the braai. You go and bandage your hand. And take one of these" Kruger reached down beside the barbeque and picked up a beer, handing it to Murdock. The pilot grinned and walked over to sit with the rest of his team. Mid-way he stopped and turned around.  
"Kruger, if you're going to run the barbie' then you're going to need this..." He untied his apron and chucked it at the mercenary. Kruger starred at the 'kiss the cook' decal, a look of unease on his face. "Be careful with it" Murdock continued. "It's as precious to me as that sword is to you." For a moment he believed he saw Kruger grin before putting it on.

As he walked back over to the rest of his team he smiled to himself. Although he knew that he'd never leave his trusted friends, whom he considered his family, he knew, despite the brutish methods and moody attitude, deep down he would be willing to work with the mercenary again.

* * *

Oh, and you really should check out ivebeenKrugered's blog, it's great - and a lot of inspiration came from there!


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